


Pot of Gold

by feistymuffin



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistymuffin/pseuds/feistymuffin
Summary: Jack's roommate Felix brings a friend over.





	Pot of Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snuggletart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuggletart/gifts).



> Alright, this is long overdue--considering I myself am quite the stoner--but when you need certain motivations to write a certain thing, well... *sigh*
> 
> I, however, ended up finding some motivation in my new friend snuggletart, and so this fic is for him!! Thanks for the inspo, bud, and I hope you like it! 
> 
> (I use some stoner/pot smoking terms, some of which are mine that I made up because ???, and their definitions are in the end notes c: )

“Can I bring a friend tonight?”

Jack doesn’t even pause, elbow-deep in dishwater and scrubbing at a baking sheet. He glances at his phone on the counter beside him that’s on speaker and says amiably, “Yeah, buddy, sure you can. Who is it? A lady love?”

“No, a friend from high school,” Felix replies. “He’s cool. Doesn’t smoke much anymore but he used to back in the day, and he’s a nice guy. And he’s a fun time when he’s stoned.”

“Kind of makes him sound a little like a stoner, Fe,” Jack laughs sardonically. “It doesn’t matter if he smokes, he can still come hang out. We can use the spoof if he doesn’t want a contact high either.”

“Such a gentle-hearted soul you are,” Felix coos, and Jack rolls his eyes. “Seriously, though, thanks. He just moved back to town so he’s a little nervous about socializing again—you know how it is meeting a new group of people all at once.”

“Make sure he knows there’s no pressure for him to stay if he’s not havin’ a good time,” Jack replies. “No hard feelin’s if he finds out we’re not his crowd.”

“He’s openminded, and he used to smoke with me in high school so he’s no stranger to the stuff.”

“Then there should be no problem havin’ him over,” Jack says, and moves on to a large pot. “You know I don’t mind. Why are you askin’ my permission? You live here too, dude.”

Felix laughs, and vaguely in the background Jack hears shutting doors and then the ambient sounds of traffic. “Well, that is true. I just thought, y’know, better safe than sorry. Me and him go way back, so it’s kind of important that you like him, man.”

“Then I will try my very best to be a good boy,” Jack says snidely, and laughs when Felix hangs up on him with a snort. 

*

Jack looks up mid-inhale, bong to his mouth, as Felix comes into his bedroom after a short knock of preemptive warning rather than a request for admission. He finishes his hit then grins as he exhales, Felix pulling up on the floor beside him, purloining a pillow from Jack’s bed and stuffing it under his butt as he sits.

“That is goin’ into your laundry tomorrow mornin’, not mine,” Jack tells him. “And you better not fart.”

“I am a gentleman, sir,” Felix says in a scandalized tone, then promptly farts on Jack’s pillow. His insane laughter doesn’t quite drown out Jack’s wailing groan of despair, but it comes close. 

“You’re buyin’ me a new pillow, you savage!” Jack yells at him, swatting his head as the blond hunches over, clutching his stomach, but then he starts laughing too. 

“Pass the bong,” Felix giggles once they’ve mostly calmed. Jack hands it to him and then the lighter. “D’you have any of that incense left, the one that smells like a fucking candy store in Paris?”

“It’s weird how accurate that description is,” Jack says amusedly. “And yes, I do. Want me to burn one?”

“Would I have asked if I didn’t?” Felix asks sweetly, and his left eyebrow quirks mockingly.

“Don’t get snippy with me,” Jack says, shaking a finger disapprovingly at him. Still, he gets up and goes to his dresser where he keeps his incense sticks, hunting for the reddish-pink ones that he saves just for Felix. 

They hear Robin coming in the front door by the time they start their second round with the bong. He goes to his room and there’s a thump as he deposits his bag onto his bed, then he calls, “You guys started without me? Pricks.”

“Snooze you lose, pal,” Felix calls, and takes a big rip from the bong. He holds his breath and adds in a reedy, thick tone, “And you worked crazy fucking late today. I’m not waiting until seven to get my dope on.”

“Then at least stop smoking my good weed without me,” Robin calls back. Moments later his footsteps precede his entry into Jack’s bedroom, dressed down in sweats and a t-shirt and out of his suit that he wears for his executive editing job. “Don’t think I don’t notice you skimming my stash of primo shit, Fe. You little mongrel.”

“Oh, I’m an angel,” Felix says innocently, finally exhaling. The smoke is almost completely invisible since he held it in for so long but the longer the hold the harder the toke, and it’s Friday so Jack knows Felix is aiming to get very fucked up. He'll probably ghost every hit. “And I paid for like, some of it. I think. Whatever, you totally love me.”

“God save you if we didn’t,” Jack grumbles, and Robin just sighs as he takes a seat on the carpet. 

“Hey, I buy the groceries,” Felix defends. He passes the bong and lighter to Robin, but it’s not the same lighter than Jack gave him. By the end of the night Jack will no doubt have rotated out a lighter of his for one of his roommates’ as things get passed around. 

Robin takes a slow, hard hit and blows out a veritable roomful of smoke. His shoulders sag as he exhales. “God, work sucked tonight. Had to finish a presentation for Monday before I left, and two of the people on the team went home early. Fucking assholes.”

“You’re the exec, so ding them for it,” Jack suggests. “If they were on the team then they knew when the deadline was. Take their names off the project.”

“They did do fuck-all for the final product,” Robin agrees ponderously. “I’ll text my boss tomorrow and see what he says about it.”

“There you go, throw those lazy bastards under the bus,” Felix beams. He glances down when his phone vibrates next to him on the floor, and he pokes the screen a few times. “Oh, good, Mark is coming over.”

“That the friend you were talkin’ about?” Jack asks.

Robin passes the bong to Jack, who murmurs his thanks. “It is indeed,” Felix nods. “He’s on his way already, and he won’t be long since he’s driving, he says.”

“Lucky,” Jack whines, his voice echoing drastically into the bong as he puts his mouth to it. “I want a car.”

Chuckling, Felix leans back onto his hands, watching him light up and draw in a slow, shallow breath to ignite half the bowl. Jack corners the bowl as well—using a small part of the flame to light just a section of the weed in the bowl and not burning the entire thing, preserving some of it to be unburned and a better hit for the next person—because he’s a nice guy like that. “That requires money, Jackaboy,” his roommate reminds him. “Which is something we do not have much excess of.”

“You don’t actually need to tell me, bud,” Jack says dryly and exhales smokily in his direction. “I am aware.”

Felix shrugs, grinning as he lounges. “Just in case. You guys wanna watch a nature show or something?”

They choose Robin’s pick since Felix and Jack couldn’t decide, and Monkey Kingdom is just starting on the big TV sitting in the corner of Jack’s room when the doorbell rings, followed by a couple knocks. 

“That’ll be Mark,” Felix grunts, getting to his feet laboriously. 

“Get the Doritos while you’re up,” Robin says, glazed eyes already glued to the television.

“And bring some water, too,” Jack requests. “You want another incense lit?”

“Oh, absolutely, I’ll die before I get tired of that smell,” Felix moans theatrically, then leaves the room cackling. 

Jack turns from lighting another stick at the sound of footfalls down the hall, and he’s facing the door just in time for Felix to gesture a broad-shouldered, stupidly handsome Asian into his bedroom. He’s wearing a t-shirt that has a cartoon Pluto with the caption “Your mom thought I was big enough”. His jeans are faded and beat up at the hems and knees, and his feet have on them a pair of tan boat shoes. He looks casually nerdy, and sexy as all hell with his rectangular glasses low on his strong nose. Jack already likes him and he doesn’t bother hiding his interest as he gives the guy, Mark, a long look up and down and all the way back up again. Biceps stretching his shirt sleeves, a chest chiseled enough to show the definition through the fabric covering it, and a stubbly beard covering his chin, jaw and upper lip all add up to Jack being more than content with Felix inviting his old friend over.

“Hey,” Jack purrs. His filter is foggy at best, his flirtation at a ten and his inhibition at a negative fifty. Felix smirks at him from behind the newcomer and his expression is full to overflowing with smugness. Jack couldn't care less, though, as he catches Mark’s eyes with his and those brown orbs consume him from the inside out, broiling his heart with a spiking fever.

“Hi,” Mark replies, his voice low and throaty. He doesn’t look away from Jack, and Jack is starting to feel warmth working its way down his body when Mark adds redundantly, “I’m Mark.”

“Jack,” he introduces himself and offers his hand. Mark takes the few steps necessary to reach him, and then Jack is holding in a soft noise when a large, tan hand closes around his slightly sweaty one. “A pleasure.”

Mark’s face is eloquent in its appreciation as he lets his dark gaze roam up and down Jack’s body, and Jack will be the first to admit that he’s getting half-hard just by the way Mark is eating him alive with his eyes alone. They’re still holding hands, too, and when Jack realizes he lets go but Mark hangs on for an extra second, letting go slowly so Jack’s fingers slide through his.

Jack swallows and manages to look away towards Robin who’s ignoring all of them placidly to watch the movie. “And uh, that’s Robin, our roommate.”

“Nice to meet you, Robin,” Mark says, giving him a cursory glance and then fixing himself back on Jack. Robin doesn’t even look like he heard it.

“Let’s at least get you stoned before you start flirting the pants off my friend,” Felix muses at the brunet and moves into the room, shoving Mark along to sit next to Robin on the carpet in front of the TV. Felix sits on Robin’s other side and Jack doesn’t think twice about closing the little square of people and taking the empty spot between Felix and Mark.

“You can’t see the TV,” Mark points out, gesturing behind Jack to the movie. 

“I got a good view here,” Jack replies, and grins when Mark’s lips curve deliciously. 

“Gag,” Felix mutters. He takes the bowl out of the bong and empties it of its ashes, grabbing the blue grinder nearby and checking its fullness. As he fills the bowl again he says, “You know, I like being right and all, but with sexual vibes like this I’m about to evict both of you out of here just on principle. Because ew.”

“It’s my room,” Jack says blithely, distractedly as Mark chews his bottom lip and stares at him. 

“You didn’t get the Doritos,” Robin whines, tuning in to the conversation long enough to notice the vicinity’s lack of snacks. “Rude.”

“I’ll get them,” Jack volunteers, standing again. He narrows his eyes at Felix as he packs the bowl. “Leave me some of that, you pig.”

“Would I scorn you so?” Felix demurs, fluttering his lashes dramatically. 

“You would,” Jack laughs, “and you have. Don’t be a bastard, we have company.” 

Mark clambers to his feet, too. “I’ll help you carry stuff.”

It’s not the least bit inconspicuous, but Jack doesn’t care as he goes to the kitchen with Mark so close behind him he can feel his body heat. The second Jack flips the light on in the small kitchen Mark has a hand on his arm and spins him around so they face each other. 

“I’m single,” Mark says without preamble, and Jack flushes and almost chokes on nothing but somehow just turns it into a cough. The brunet smiles wryly, reaching hesitantly to touch along Jack’s arm where it hangs at his side. “And I’m really hoping you’re single, too.”

“I am painfully single,” Jack admits, and enjoys the rumbling chuckle Mark lets out. “Please tell me you’re actually interested.”

Mark takes that last step and backs Jack up into the wall beside the fridge then studies his face closely for his reaction. Jack sighs roughly and feels effervescence growing inside his stomach, wreaking all kinds of havoc on his nerves. “I’m so interested that I can’t believe I like you this much without knowing a single fucking thing about you,” Mark murmurs, fingertips like feathers on Jack’s skin. 

“I’ll give you the crash course,” Jack says, and does some studying of his own. Mark’s cheeks are pink, the lightest flush of colour that Jack would bet money on himself being the cause. When Mark shifts and presses briefly into him with his whole body, the pressure runs through him like a slowly creeping tide, enhancing his desire. “My full name is Sean William McLoughlin, I’m a hotel manager, I like green and I have no fuckin’ idea why we aren’t kissin’ yet.”

Mark doesn’t bother with verbalizing, instead grabbing Jack’s face in both hands and bending the few inches’ difference to mash their mouths together. For a long moment the kiss is half teeth, half tongue and all heat, and then Mark’s grip on his jaw eases into a stroking, warm-palmed tether to reality and everything gains a sudden, serene depth. Jack sighs into his mouth and relaxes in his embrace as one hand slides down his spine, and he’s lifting up into Mark, up on his tiptoes to receive his invasive, greedy tongue.

“I don’t think you’ll find the Doritos in there,” Felix informs the pair from the doorway, and Jack jumps so hard that he knocks his head into Mark’s. The brunet laughs, simultaneously groaning, and rubs his head. Jack cradles his forehead and grumbles in discomfort even as Mark’s left hand stays at his hip, tickling a finger beneath Jack’s shirt hem to touch his bare skin. 

“Just being thorough,” Mark replies simply to Felix and lets Jack go, taking an easy step back.

Free of Mark’s drugging influence Jack turns and finds the bag of Doritos in the cupboard over the sink, handing them to Felix. “Mark, beside the pickles in the fridge are some bottles of water, could you grab a few?”

He does, taking a total of four before following Felix out of the kitchen, Jack bringing up the rear. He takes the chance to extensively ogle Mark’s butt, which is about the best-looking ass Jack’s ever seen. He wants his teeth on it, to leave red crescents that he’d soothe with his tongue and bruises that would serve as a reminder each time Mark sat down. 

When Jack glances up Mark’s looking back at him, clearly catching him in the act of checking him out and fantasizing. Mark raises an eyebrow at him and Jack shrugs innocently, but his cheeky grin gives him away. 

They bring their spoils back into Jack’s bedroom and sit in a square-ish circle on the floor by Robin again, who shrieks his delight and snatches the bag of Doritos from Felix’s hands. Mark gives him a curious but amused look and Jack snickers along with him when Robin rips it open and stuffs his face with disgusting, vicious enthusiasm.

Predictably he forgets they’re there again, and Felix sets a water bottle next to him before opening his own and taking a sip. “So, another bowl?”

“Got one packed?” Jack asks, answering his own question as he reaches for the bong and inspects the bowl. It’s full of nicely ground little green leaf bits, and he slips his lighter from his pocket and puts the bong to his mouth, cornering the bowl and leaving half unburned. Once it’s well-lit he inhales hard, killing the lighter and emptying the bong of smoke as it bubbles voraciously.

He lifts his head and glances at Mark beside him, passing the bong and lighter over while he holds in the smoke. Some escapes when he grins though, drifting up lazily through the air from his mouth. Mark accepts them and smiles back, takes a huge hit from the bong—probably scorching the whole thing to ash—and the chambers fill densely with smoke cooled by the water inside. He inhales, and once the bong is empty he passes it on to Felix to repack it and holds his breath too.

Finally Jack exhales, smoke whooshing past his lips, and he looks over to study Mark intently. The brunet didn’t even choke or cough, and that hit was _enormous_. “I think I’m in love,” Jack says, slightly awed, and Mark does cough then, exhaling all his smoke and laughing hard. “Sorry,” Jack murmurs sheepishly. “My filter gets a little blurry in all the smoke.”

Mark chuckles and doesn’t reply, his left hand creeping to tease its fingers along Jack’s thigh. It’s not discrete and Felix and Robin can definitely see it but Felix just rolls his eyes and taps out the ashes from the bowl, removed from the bong and over the ash tray. Robin is in a whole other world, and probably wouldn’t notice even if Mark and Jack had wild sex with him in the room. 

They pass the bong around again once Felix packs it with fresh stuff, Mark’s fingers like live batteries against his clothed skin, and it manages to make it to Mark with something still left. He burns the bowl completely to ash again, takes another massive hit and gives Jack a long, staggeringly hot look when he exhales the smoke out his nose. 

“Tina Fey is a _gift_ ,” Robin says to no one in particular, heated and emphatic, his eyes unerringly on the TV. He stuffs another handful of Doritos into his mouth and chews loudly, crunching the nachos like a caveman. Jack gives him a fond look and settles on his bed to watch Monkey Kingdom—Felix on the floor still beside Robin—and he’s followed by Mark, who attaches closely to his other side.

Mark leans into him, his arm coming around Jack’s back to plant on the bed behind him. He keeps moving until his nose is pressed under Jack’s jaw and he gently puts his lips to Jack’s thumping pulse. He holds in the noise on his tongue, acutely aware of Felix three feet away, and tilts his head to the side so Mark can begin development on a significant hickey.

“Don’t you want to watch the movie?” Jack asks him, softly enough to escape Felix and Robin’s hearing over the TV. His eyes flutter closed when Mark’s other hand smooths up his thigh, gripping hard near his groin before coasting back down to his knee and back up again. His skin tingles with heat, a body high from the weed, and Jack bites his lip as he feels Mark’s smile on his warm throat. 

“No,” Mark whispers to the flesh at his neck, and bites him gently. 

Jack’s breath sighs out softly, a ghost of a sound rolling off his tongue. “Great,” he murmurs, and turns to crush his mouth to Mark’s, burying a hand in his dark hair. 

“Are you kidding me?” Felix asks from the floor, but Jack doesn’t stop this time, grabbing Mark’s face with both hands and holding on while Mark draws him down to lay on the bed. “Oh. My. God. You’re not kidding me. Are we being sexiled in the middle of hanging out?”

“Yes,” Jack mutters against Mark’s mouth, arching his back up when Mark’s arm curls beneath him, pressing their bodies tightly together. 

“Unbelievable,” Felix says, high and affronted. “I am wounded.”

“Fe, I will kick the shit out of you,” Mark warns playfully, pulling away for a brief moment to give the blond a hard look.

“You are my guest, you rude little gutter rat,” Felix reminds him, faux haughty. “I’m entitled to your company.”

“Your company is about to have sex with your roommate,” Mark informs him, and goes back to kissing a red-faced but eager Jack, who opens his mouth at once when Mark licks at his lips. 

Felix groans and gets to his feet, hitting pause on the movie and hauling a startled Robin to his feet. “C’mon, buddy, we’re being evicted.”

Robin blinks. “But, monkeys.” He gestures to the movie, where Maya and her son Kip are frozen on-screen. 

“We’ll finish it in my room, pal,” Felix sighs, and tugs Robin from the room, Doritos and water bottles in hand. The bedroom door shuts behind them and the sound jars something in Jack, a sliver of realism that embeds in his heart.

Mark pulls back, evidently sensing his hesitation. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmurs, smoothing a thumb across Jack’s cheek tenderly.

“I want to,” Jack assures him, smiling through his nerves. “It’s just… a lot, you know? I’m so fuckin’ high, and I want you so much, but I don’t want that to be all this is.”

“I am also really fucking high,” Mark says, amused, and laughs softly when Jack does. “But that doesn’t mean this is a one-night stand.”

“Just… just fuckin’ kiss me, keep kissin’ me,” Jack demands. He grabs Mark’s face and brings their mouths together, exhaling hard when Mark’s hands grip at his neck and ass and squeeze hard before becoming a teasing, hot presence on his body. 

Tingles light up his skin wherever Mark’s hands roam—down his sides and over his thighs, across his stomach, at the waist of his jeans. His breath comes in little pants the more Mark touches him, until he’s so hard it actually hurts where his dick is pressed against his zipper. He makes a small noise of discomfort when Mark’s hips roll down into his, a brush of bodies, and Mark immediately lifts away.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his swollen mouth curved into a worried frown.

Heat floods his face. “I—yeah, just, hold on,” he murmurs, and lets go of Mark to reach between them and undo his pants. The release of pressure on his dick as he pulls down the zipper is heavenly, and he sighs with relief. When he glances back up, though, Mark is staring down at Jack’s groin, his underwear bared right where his cock lay hard and drooling beneath the fabric.

With an unusual peak of confidence Jack moves his hands to Mark’s belt and starts undoing it, and the noise Mark makes is strangled and weak, full of want. His hips lean into Jack’s hands, and they both gasp lightly when Jack’s knuckles brush against Mark’s stiff cock, covered by his boxers. 

Groaning harshly Mark ducks his head and kisses Jack, and this time it’s different. Mark’s weight over him is like a dream, vividly present but so perfectly unreal that Jack doubts his very existence. The heat is there, though, the unbelievable drug-induced fire that his body is soaked in, fuelled by Mark’s touch. His hot hand cups at Jack’s jaw and coaxes his mouth open gently, and when Jack parts his lips he delves inside, licking his tongue with reverence and delicacy.

Jack’s hands make short work of Mark’s belt and then he’s shoving his jeans down over Mark’s ass, pulling his boxers dangerously low on his hips in the process. Mark moans into his mouth and drives the kiss into rougher territory, keeping Jack still while he wriggles out of his own pants.

They part for air, and in an unspoken agreement they separate to undress. Uninhibited from drugs and desire, Jack whips his shirt off over his head and sits up to shimmy out of his pants and underwear, seeing that Mark is similarly getting completely naked. His own undressing gets utterly waylaid as he watches Mark. He watches the way his arms flex as he fumbles with his jeans, the way his stomach clenches and how defined his chest looks as he pulls his shirt over his head. He turns a bright shade of red when Mark looks up and catches him, but the brunet just smiles and comes back to him, shedding his boxers as he does.

“How do you want to…” Mark begins, eyes doing some looking of their own down Jack’s naked body. His palms smooth up Jack’s chest and he shivers hard. “I’m good with anything.”

“I… Could you fuck me?” Jack wonders, and despite his steady delivery the words still make him blush. His eyes stray to Mark’s cock, fully erect and a little bit bigger than what Jack is used to, but by no means a deal-breaker. “I would… I would really like that.”

“You got stuff?” Mark asks, and Jack nods and rolls onto his stomach to dig under his mattress to his sex stash. He abruptly jerks up, though, when Mark’s hands glide up his back, slow and sensual. “Just… actually, stay down there for a minute. Come over here, though,” he adds, pulling Jack so his face is at the pillows. Immediately he has his hands on Jack’s back again, going all the way down over his ass before back up to his shoulders and down again. 

“I didn’t know back rubs were part of the deal,” Jack sighs contentedly. He arches into Mark’s touch with a small hum, pushing his ass up as his hands slide over the skin there, warm and tingling all over. “This feels amazin’. Like little fireworks on me.”

With a kiss to the back of his shoulder Mark takes the lube and condom from Jack, fingertips trailing all the way up his arm before dropping the prophylactics on the bed and resuming the back rub. Empty-handed, Mark digs his thumbs into Jack’s spine between his shoulder blades and he lets out a low moan. “ _Oh_ … Who needs a chiropractor with treatment like this,” he hums, delighted by Mark’s chuckle. 

“You’ve got the most ridiculous body,” Mark murmurs, and Jack gasps when wet lips press to the back of his neck, traveling in a languorous path down his spine. “I just want to put my mouth on you until all your white skin is covered in marks. My marks.”

Jack shivers and moans again, arching into Mark’s hands. “I am an average-bodied person,” he argues, and nearly chokes on his own tongue when Mark rubs the pad of his thumb over his hole. 

“I guess,” Mark allows, kissing along the small of his back. Jack hears the creak of the lube cap opening, and then a slick finger breaches him, drawing out a long moan from the depths of his chest. “God, you sound good. Are you always this vocal?”

“This is the weed’s doin’,” Jack admits, breathing hard into the pillow under his face as Mark pumps his finger in and out. His fingers tangle into the covers on either side of him and Mark leaves a trio of kisses on Jack’s back and then bites down on the side of his neck as he eases a second finger in. “G—… God,” Jack whines, “it feels fuckin’ great.” He presses his forehead into the pillow and laughs breathlessly, even as he moans. “I’m so fuckin’ high.”

Mark laughs too, his mouth at the nape of Jack’s neck. “I think we knew that,” he muses. His hand doesn’t stop, and his other one smooths its way around Jack’s hip to his cock as he adds, “It’s treating us both pretty well.”

Jack’s mouth falls open when Mark’s hand circles his cock, and he lets out a strained whimper. “I’m good, I’m—I’m so good, just fuck me,” Jack groans, gnawing his lip red and bucking helplessly into Mark’s hands. 

He pulls away and Jack feels the absence for only a moment, hears the sound of a condom wrapper, before Mark’s pressing back against him. He feels Mark’s legs brushing against his as he adjusts himself and then he’s steadily pushing in and making Jack moan throatily, his eyes rolling back in his head when what should be a stretched heat is only a cascade of pleasure. 

“I’m really glad your roommates already know we’re fucking, because you are not quiet,” Mark laughs as he bottoms out. He stays there and smooths his hands up Jack’s back while the paler man lay trembling, minutely rolling his hips up and grazing his cock back and forth inside Jack. 

Jack lets out a slow, soft noise that ascends into a high moan the longer Mark grinds into him. “You’re really good at this,” Jack says mindlessly, panting. 

“There’s a review card to fill out after this,” Mark tells him. Jack laughs and feels himself clench around Mark’s cock, feels Mark’s full-body shiver as he grips Jack’s hips in his hands, deepens his thrusts and picks up his pace with a soft groan and a muttered, “ _Fuck_.”

“We should—go out,” Jack blurts, rocking into the bed from the force of Mark’s body. Heat is blazing through him, sparking up his spine and pooling like lava in his gut, in his cock, and he’s surprised he gets the words out at all. 

Mark doesn’t slow down even slightly when he replies, deadpan, “If you thought you were getting away from me tonight without at least a ring on your finger, you were sorely mistaken.”

Jack laughs squeakily but at once his voice is cracking with sharp moans when Mark adjusts again and gets him _right fucking there_. He warbles out a low noise and then starts to moan in a pathetic cadence, his cock dribbling precum onto the blankets under him. 

“I’m not goin’ to last long,” Jack warns him weakly, fingers clenched hard enough in the sheets to whiten his knuckles. 

“With you there,” Mark agrees in a groan. He bucks hard into Jack for a few thrusts before resuming his previous speed, sighing out his breath roughly. Jack feels it gust across his back and shivers, moaning when it makes his skin tingle coolly. “God, you are so sexy. Don’t you know what you look like? What you sound like?”

“Sure, like I’m havin’ sex,” Jack rebukes, and the words are stop-start as he moans throughout. Mark thrusts hard, once, brutally jerking Jack against his body and making him yelp at the feeling, but not from pain. “O-oh,” Jack whimpers, “Mark—”

“Where do you want to go?” Mark asks him, like he didn’t just tickle the back of Jack’s throat with his cock. “For our date.”

“This is fine,” Jack gets out, and then he buries his face in the pillow as his body starts to crumble into burning stardust. Mark groans out a long, raucous sound of pleasure and he drives into him, speeding up and bending over Jack’s back to bite at his shoulders. Jack manages to grab his own cock and jerk himself off, and it only takes a few strokes for him to nearly scream his release, spurting onto the bed as Mark continues to hammer into him.

“You sound amazing,” Mark sighs unevenly, hips pistoning and then he’s trembling over Jack, arms planted on either side of his ribs, moaning and orgasming with his body jerking from the sensations. 

They lay and catch their breath, neither of them moving even slightly. When he can finally feel Mark softening inside him, Jack hedges, “I, uh, I really have to piss.”

Mark laughs and pulls away, sitting back on the bed to let Jack sit up. Jack is briefly mesmerized when Mark tugs off and ties the condom, watching his flaccid dick with much more interest than is required after being fucked so thoroughly. Mark catches him looking _again_ , but he just smiles and leans forward over the wet spot to kiss Jack, a hand sliding back into his hair.

“How awkward do you think we can make it for Felix if we go back and hang out with them?” Mark wonders mischievously against his lips before diving back into another kiss. 

Jack kisses him until they run out of breath, and when they part he has to replay the question in his mind. He chuckles, sighing in soft delight when Mark’s hands rub along his sides, sometimes sliding to his back and massaging a little into his skin. “Felix is pretty fun to antagonize,” Jack admits, smiling, and Mark leans to his mouth for more kisses. “Mm, but—”

“No, no buts,” Mark replies, and pushes his tongue into Jack’s mouth. His attention does short work of wrecking Jack’s resolve for the argument in seconds and dissolving his organs into goop. He leans back after a minute and studies Jack, mulling over his body like a piece of art, all the way down and then back up to his eyes. “You ought to be a controlled substance. Already I’m addicted.”

Jack smiles, carding a hand into Mark’s wildly disheveled hair. “And have you had your fix?”

Mark growls, wiggling his eyebrows, and pounces on Jack to pin him on his back. “Not even close,” he rumbles, burying his face in Jack’s neck and committing his focus to giving him another hickey. 

“So disappointin’, really,” Jack murmurs dryly, chin tilted up to give him room. Mark’s laugh is loud and brash, and Jack smiles as he basks in the sound. He has a feeling he’ll be hearing a lot more of it.

**Author's Note:**

> spoof - an object, usually a small carboard tube with a fresh dryer sheet stuffed in one end, used to exhale marijuana smoke through 1. so the room doesn't smell, and 2. to reduce smoke for non-smokers in the area
> 
> cornering - using a lighter flame to burn a partial of the bowl of weed rather than the whole bowl, preserving some weed to be fresh for the next person
> 
> scorch - completely burning the bowl until there's nothing smokeable left
> 
> toke, hit, rip - different terms for a singular inhale
> 
> contact high - getting somewhat high from being near people who are smoking, but not smoking yourself
> 
> ghost/ghosting - holding in a hit so long that, when you exhale, the smoke is no longer visible


End file.
